


A Moment of Weakness

by Gryff_inTheGame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Blow Jobs, Best Friends, Betrayal, F/M, Heartbreak, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, Mild Sexual Content, Teen Angst, Tension, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 12:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18549697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryff_inTheGame/pseuds/Gryff_inTheGame
Summary: The curve of Daphne's lips is distracting. Plump and juicy, they beg to be bitten; a delectable shade of pink, how he longs for her taste.





	A Moment of Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt/song: Let me down slowly,  
> Alec Benjamin
> 
> As in the 6th film, Blaise is a Chaser on the Quidditch team.
> 
> Cannocically speaking, Katie is still a year older. 
> 
> The cursed opal necklace has been cursed to meddle with memories. 
> 
> Special thank to my Beta, who shall remain anonymous for the moment. I couldn't have done this without you.

* * *

 

The curve of Daphne's lips is distracting. Plump and juicy, they beg to be bitten; a delectable shade of pink, how he longs for her taste. His desire a subtle display, his lust for her clouds through half-lidded obsidian eyes as as black as night. Potions class isn't exactly the ideal place for such fantasies, but he nibbles his bottom lip thoughtfully anyway.

Daphne is a welcome distraction, only breaking eye contact with him to blink. Her eyelids flutter seductively as her cheeks hollow out. Each time she sucks one of those damn Muggle oral-suckers is enough to send any wizard to Azkaban. She winks at Blaise cheekily as she removes the lollipop from her mouth. In doing so, she emphasises a lip-smacking _pop!_ He is certain he's just been damned to Hell.

Blaise is more than aware of the growing swell in his pants as class ends. It has also come to his attention he now has a free period.

He is last to rise from his chair, being sure to readjust his pants. He needs a little more room to move as he charms an extended crotch to the bulk of his trousers to tame the snake within. As he exits Potions, he finds himself shoulder to shoulder with Daphne before he shoves her into the nearest empty classroom.

“Can't get enough of me, can you Zabini?” She smirks a wicked grin only worthy of a Slytherin. “It's ok, Blaise. You know I like it rough.” She teases him with eyes of intrigue, already knowing what he longs for.

He doesn't restrain himself as he grips her chin, not forceful enough to bruise but enough to convey his want. Daphne bites her bottom lip in response and he knows her mouth is his for the taking. He devours her lips, tasting the flavour of the leftover lolly. There is no doubt it's strawberry. As he pulls away he takes notice of the berry shade to her lips and blush tone to her cheeks. It's complementary to her complexion and he feels a little pulse in his dick.

“Don't tease me, Daphne, you displease me.”

Instead of quipping back, Daphne gives in to his request. Her hands reach forward, finding the place where his belt buckle connects. Swiftly, she has his pants down to his knees, pushing him onto the teacher's desk behind him. He remains seated, leaning back on his hands, his legs splayed to accommodate her beautiful face. If looks could kill, he'd probably be dead...

He thrusts his hips towards her mouth as she mockingly licks his tip. She's good at that: the teasing. It’s always enough to bring him to the brink and leave him wanting more. He aches so badly to see her lips smack over his hard, throbbing cock. The wait is as agonising as his balls are blue.

Blaise admires the way her tongue travels up and down his length. Her moistened mouth working in ways to lubricate him. It's a slippery slope, his pleasure. There's a certain degree of skill used on this trip to madness, and he doesn't dare dream of getting off at the next stop. Unfortunately, the exotic destination is damning.

Blaise is not-so-honourably aware of his quick demise as she drains him clean—the downfall to his lack of experience. Like the good girl he knows she is, she doesn't waste him.

Daphne smirks, obviously pleased with herself. “I'll leave you to clean up the mess,” she mocks with a wink as she blows him a subtle kiss. The heart-shaped puff of air lands on his cheek. She is already chewing gum.  

Blaise observes how the curve of her hips sashay toward the door. His pants still down to his knees, he hates to see her back as he watches her leave. There's a slight stammer in his chest as he lays back on the desk; feeling fond of something within his chest. It sometimes makes it hard to breathe as he gathers himself to feel some ease. Deep in thought, Blaise stares at the ceiling.  
  
His accelerated heart rate could be an indication of love or some other kind of feeling. Dazed and confused, he questions the word. Whether what he feels is real, or rather just obscure and blurred.

Oral is a new concept to Blaise. He was a virgin to foreplay merely a few weeks prior, when he developed an appetite for a certain Slytherin-blonde. Now sexually active, he wonders why he rejected it for so long.

There are many things Blaise is not prudent to admit. His thanks to the Hufflepuff seventh years is one of them.

Trust Hufflepuffs to discover a way to educate on all matters involving the opposite sex, by using food as a method to teach. Daphne and Pansy had gotten wind of what the Puffs were up to and demanded lessons too, of course. Daphne is a natural. Pansy however… Well there is a first time for everyone.

Amusedly, Blaise thinks of the time he caught Pansy trying to deepthroat a banana in the Slytherin common room. A pitiful attempt in seducing Draco, one in which resulted in her shamefully, ingesting and choking on the tip of the soft fruit in one severe gulp. It is safe to say her efforts didn't go unnoticed. Pansy can no longer eat bananas in public without reliving the embarrassment over and over again. It is a known fact she is has yet to seal the deal with his Malfoy friend.

As the sound of shuffling feet echoes down the hall, it draws him from his thoughts. Pulling up his pants, he decides on a new course of action. Quidditch and questions.

He can bribe Theo with a smoke. And perhaps he can find a way to pry some knowledge from the youngest Nott. Although not athletically inclined, his pal has proven himself worthy of being his first mate, and is quite gifted in charming the pants off both male and female students. He considers Theo a brother. That in itself is a privilege regarding the private life of Blaise Zabini.

* * *

“I can't believe you only lasted three seconds!” Muses Theo comically with a snort. It's meant to be light-hearted but Blaise is offended.

Theo's eyes are brighter than the sun, enthused with the knowledge of Blaise' quick release. Blaise gives him a dangerous glare in warning.

“I said it _seemed_ like three seconds, you prick! I didn't mean it literally. It was an estimation of time!”

"Estimation, guesstimation!” Replies Theo smugly with a dramatic wave of his hands. He gives Blaise a playful pat on his back.

The swift move catches Blaise off-guard. Enough to warrant a low growl.

“Alright, mate. Calm your tits.” Acknowledges Theo in defeat.

It's only because they are alone he can make jokes like this. Blaise is too proud to let his guard down most days. The protruding vein popping from the side of his forehead is a sure sign of constant tension; there is no simple remedy for the pressure he is under.

Theo stops laughing long enough to light-up his cigarette. In his moment of weakness, Blaise momentarily thinks about snatching it from his friend and butting it out on his damn face. Since exploring his sexual urges with Daphne, Blaise finds himself more open to vulnerabilities. He doesn't particularly enjoy his newfound emotional freedom. Nor does he understand it. She has snaked her way under his skin.

The one person who is open enough to accept him is Theo. So Blaise has come to enjoy short moments like this, where he can truly be himself without fear or judgement. It seems as though he's had to live up to this snobby expectation his whole life. The downfall of having a slutty mother and dirty money. He hopes Daphne will someday be accepting of him too. The _real_ him.

Upon reaching the Quidditch pitch Blaise and Theo find themselves amused by a rather entertaining sight. Two red and gold blurs flying at high speed around the pitch, appearing to be trying to dodge bludgers, whilst chasing a quaffle. Although the figures are hard to see, their long locks cascading in the wind defines the obvious. Witches. It is known Gryffindor hosted their tryouts today. They must be keen to practice if they haven't yet left the field.

The speed and agility of the flyers is impressive as the Slytherin wizards watch from the stands. Blaise even reaches for Theo’s cigarette, enjoying a casual puff or two. He finds himself somewhat mesmerised by the brunette ponytail caught up in the breeze as she barrels in a spectacular display of twists and twirls. She slips up however, while dodging one bludger she somehow manages to get side swiped by another.

Within seconds, her arm is almost torn clean from her body as she catapultes seamlessly from her broom. Her teammate screeches a name: _Katie_!

Katie's body flies weightlessly through the air, like the quaffle she often longs to embrace as her wand arm flops helplessly beside her. She approaches the snakes with speed at an unstoppable rate and appears to suddenly pass out in the midst of the mishap. Katie becomes almost dead weight as she plummets towards the ground. A flash of red hair grows nearer but it's obvious she won't be able to swoop down in time to save her.

Theo casually taps the ash from his cigarette, after finally managing to snatch it back from Blaise. "Are you going to handle this, or should I?” He doesn't seem surprised or shocked, but there is a slight stammer in his tone to suggest the seriousness of the situation.

Blaise shrugs slightly. His concentration is unparalleled. With a sharp glance and not a single a word, Katie stops merely a foot from the ground. Blaise's palm is raised in the _stop_ position, her fall halted. He folds his hand, balling it into a fist. Just enough leverage to lower her from a short height and bring her to a restful drop.

Her teammate lands nearby, rushing toward her in distress.

Theo butts out his cigarette upon recognising the youngest Weasley, being sure to blow his smoke in the other direction. He quickly runs his fingers through his hair.

“Ever the gentleman, Nott,” mocks Blaise with a quiet chuckle.

“I'm an opportunist. You can't take me anywhere. You know this, Zabini.” He retorts.

They sneer before resigning to their stereotypical gaze of indifference.

They don't run as they approach Katie Bell, who is currently coming too.

Too proud to ask for assistance, Ginny can't help herself. "If you’re not capable of making yourself useful, will you do me a favour and kindly fuck-off!”

“ _Kindly_ fuck-off?” Repeats Blaise. “So grateful, Red. That's rich or should I say poor—coming from you.”

Ginny’s grip tightens around her broom. It looks as though she contemplates using it as a weapon but flinches when realising her hand now has a splinter. Her cheeks turn a shade of red bright as the hair on her head.

“What do we have here, Nott? A Bromance or hoemance?” She quips whilst bending down to help Katie sit up.

“Why on earth are you training with cursed bludgers? You Gryffindors really do have a death wish,” states Blaise in disbelief. He quietly marvels the brilliance of the idea despite seeing the flaws in their plan. A few tweaks and it could work.

“A challenge, Zabini. Why else?”

Theo interrupts, wanting to take the main stage as his lady in waiting continues to sass him with her impertinence. Blaise knows the strength Theo admires of this lioness

Theo clears his throat, confidently stepping forward.

“Ever so feisty, little fire crotch.” He beams as if proud of himself.

Ginny turns to Blaise.

“Help Katie, will you?”

It is not a request.

Blaise smirks, glancing at Theo in a way that suggests he isn't as smooth as the peanut butter he had for breakfast this morning.

Hell appears to break loose, but Blaise is having trouble identifying whether it's actually hate or just built up tension. Ginny has certainly blossomed in the past year. Perhaps Blaise is more aware now because the majority of their sixth year is sexually involved—one way or another.

From a distance he can see Theo storming off as Ginny yells, “What's got your knickers in a knot, _Nott_?” His underwear is up around his waist, twisting like a continuous roped snake.

“That's going to burn,” says a soft voice.

Katie is trying to stand, holding her shoulder as she grimaces.

Blaise doesn't need to insist on helping her. He swiftly bends down to give her a hand up. "You're going to need that seen to”.

“I don't need your opinion, Zabini,” retorts Katie. “I am well aware of my injuries,” she states somewhat regretfully, while inspecting her significant blood loss. She must be running on adrenaline now. The bludger responsible is already locked backed in its trunk. Blaise chuckles at her misfortune.

Katie's face is scrunched up, her pain obvious. During her moment of weakness all he wants is to take the pain away. He can't help but notice how cute her button nose is. His thoughts momentarily drift to Daphne’s. He's never thought it to be _cute._ Come to think of it, it's not something he's noticed about her at all.

They pause, studying the features of each other's faces. He finds himself almost curious to know what she is thinking. Until he realises she is about to pass out again.

“Hey, I've got you!” He says without panic as he breaks her fall.

Groggily she replies, “Who would have thought Blaise Zabini would be here to catch me twice. Do it again and I might just fall for you.”

As innocent as the comment he feels a little embarrassed for her, knowing she will live to regret saying such a thing. In moments of excruciating pain, people have been known to say and do strange things. He understands there's no possible way she could mean it.

Blaise could levitate her but he doesn't. He chooses to carry her in his arms as he makes his way to the hospital wing. He glances at her nose again, no longer scrunched in pain and feels a sudden ease of peace.

* * *

Naturally, someone saw Blaise carrying Katie to the Hospital wing so of-course the whole school knows. And while rumours seem to accompany the fact, Blaise failed to see the repercussions of his actions until now.

Instead of a good morning kiss in greeting, Blaise is shooed away by Pansy. When he tries to approach Daphne in Potions, she simply turns a blind eye. He doesn't understand how to fix it if Daphne won't talk to him. His frustration begins to grow, however, when her silence lasts longer than a week, he wonders if there is finality in the unspoken words they lack to speak.

A week passes, the calming freesia and jasmine scent of Daphne's perfume fades from his bedding. Blaise rises from his slumber, feet cold like ice as he strides from his bed to the bathroom. It's not only his feet feeling the chill as his heart fails to thaw. It's Saturday morning. Usually he wakes with Daphne beside him. Today, however, is different.

There's a small jolt in the pit of his stomach, similar to what one would confuse as hunger. A pang of guilt he wonders. It's not obvious to determine but there's a dull ache in his chest where his heart is. He is at a loss on how to make it right with Daphne, and the anxiety that accompanies his confusion is beginning to feel like the end. He washes up and dresses for the day, keen on something to eat. The common room is empty, he assumes everyone is at breakfast.

On his way to the Great Hall he finds his pace quickening whilst people whisper behind his back. In reality, he could bail up anyone and ask but for some reason he feels the need to be surrounded by his own. Usually, he has confidence as stubborn as a mule. As the whispers and stares continue, at this point in time, he wishes to be invisible. It doesn't take a genius to figure out there is something off.

Blaise reaches the large double doors, entering swiftly to see in full view, Daphne snogging some Hufflepuff at the Slytherin table. Suddenly, The Great Hall grows quiet, you could hear a wand drop; the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. As Daphne pulls away from the now recognisable Ernie MacMillan—the nerve of him to sit so smugly at the Slytherin table and in Blaise’ seat no less—chaos breaks loose.

Anger. The rage inside him grows, intense and stormy as the most dangerous of seas. Barrels of past memories drown in sorrow, waves of pain and disdain replace his ache with regret. He lingers on the recognition longer than he does knowing the truth.

Blaise can't understand how rescuing a girl can somehow warrant silent treatment for a week followed by cheating. There is no middle ground with her. She is out of order! He goes through the motions quickly, though time feels slow. For the shortest second, he feels embarrassed by her—that she would do this to _him_ of all people. In the two seconds it takes him to register who it is she is making out with, he already decided the only course of action is to punch the living daylights out of the fool. Upon nearing a minute, Blaise is face to face with the not-so-loyal Hufflepuff.

Ernie licks his lips. “Hmm, Daph, strawberry is my favourite. He flashes her a grin and for some bizarre reason unbeknownst to him, she smiles back

The nerve him! The nerve of them _both_! Blaise doesn't hold back.

Ernie pulls his wand from his pocket but it's too late. Blaise balls his hand into a fist and strikes the smug look off Ernie's face. Not to teach him a lesson but to show him how to earn respect. Blaise pulls his arm back, readying for another strike when Daphne's sob captures his attention. It distracts him long enough to receive a fist to the jaw himself, the punch so loud it almost echoes clean off the walls of The Great Hall.

“Oh, _hell_ no! I did not sign up for this, Greengrass. You're on your own! And don't bother asking for a refund.”

Ernie manages to grapple away from Blaise, his bloody nose dripping down his face. It's broken but he doesn't wince. Instead he leaves the scene quickly, as questions begin to swirl around Blaise’ head.

“A refund?” He turns to her in question. The truth dawning on him before she can answer.

“No, it's not like that.” Daphne tries to play it down but the reality of it is—she just paid some guy to make Blaise jealous and he fell for it. The pussy can't be so good he needs to fight someone over it

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asks sarcastically. He can't even fathom the stupidity of this girl. He's gone from actual heartbreak, to betrayal, to hate all within a space of five minutes. If this is the person she really is, she has no place in his heart. He came over here to fight for her and now he can't stand to be in her presence.

“I did everything I could to try and get you to talk to me. I asked you what was wrong. I even _begged_ you and you pull this shit, Daphne? You're out of your damn mind!” He's angry as the words tumble from his mouth. The crowd around them grows.

“Are you so insecure you have to lie and pretend to _cheat_ for my attention? When you had it all along. Are you really so deluded?”

Tears roll down her cheeks as she stutters, realising her dishonest mistake.

“I'm sorry,” She sobs. “I was too proud to admit I was jealous.”

“Jealous? I helped someone who was _injured_. I would have done the same for anyone.” He raises his voice while she continues to cry.

Blaise starts to back away, the crowd surrounding them parting to let him leave.

Daphne follows forward desperately with each step back he takes, reaching for him as he tries to leave. He pulls away, a look of disgust across his face, his confusion now clear as a crystal ball. He glances over her and sees Katie walking away. As he turns around, he gives Daphne no choice but to watch him leave.

* * *

 Having no time to process, Blaise simply wishes to forget. His anger is now an impaired blur, parading as a mask to hide his damaged pride.

Longing for peace and quiet, he ventures to the Quidditch pitch. He stepp onto the grassy field, drawn into the midst of the Forbidden Forest. He reaches the outline of the trees' edge when he hears her voice, "I'm sorry."

Blaise comes to a halt, looking over his shoulder. Katie is standing, all shiny and new—Madame Pomfrey worked wonders on her shoulder. He pauses before nodding his head toward the forest, implying she follow. Follow she does.

* * *

“You have no reason to be sorry,” states Blaise matter-of-factly. “You needed help. I was there. I did the right thing. I did the _noble_ thing.” He doesn't need convince her.

Katie is grateful, a subtle smile curling her lips. “And I thank you. Was there really a need to carry me though?”

Perplexed, Blaise replies, "Your arm was hanging off your body. You were covered in blood. You passed out. You looked so fragile. I didn't want to risk injuring you further so I carried you.”

“I'm not as fragile as some binding of an old book okay? You could have alerted someone; a teacher… Why did you help me, Blaise?”

“Because you looked so helpless.”

“I was helpless. But why did you do it?”

“Because I wanted to.”

Katie pauses, her silence more deafening than the previous scene in The Great Hall. This is new territory for Blaise. He doesn't understand why he feels the need to be so honest with her, but he is. A light breeze ruffles her hair and he feels tempted to brush it away from her face. The silence between them remains but in a moment of weakness, Blaise gives in to that niggling impulse and sweeps her hair behind her ear. His touch is soft and specific, aiming for the apples of her cheek where her face is tinted most. Her skin is hot to touch, her warmth soothing the burn of his former flame. She doesn't flinch an inch; the trust between them already an existing bond from the rescue. This time when the wind blows, he leans forward to take her lips.

The kiss is a perfect combination of mouths melting and tongue. Their lips mold effortlessly into one as his hands fold gently into hers. Katie is tall for a girl but still has to stand on the tips of her toes to reach his face. He secretly admires her nice skin, soft and supple under his caress as his hands travel up her arms to feel more of her. His touch is welcome. He can tell by the goosebumps prickling her arms and by the way her lips tremble. He knows it's wrong to compare...but kissing Daphne never felt like this.

Time passes and they stop to catch their breath. Blaise searches Katie's eyes for the answers she refuses to give. He fails to know the right thing to say at a time like this. It's fast and poor timing on his part, but he can't get passed how right it feels. How right _she_ feels _._

“That was—”

“—nice,” she concludes.

Although Blaise agrees, the word nice doesn't cut it. Satisfying. Pleasant. Refreshing; attraction so deep their chemistry is worth holding onto. For lack of better word, all he can do is bask in their meaningful silence.

In a moment of weakness, Katie beams at Blaise. Although it is autumn, her eyes burn him brighter than the sun on the warmest days of summer. He never really made sense of the saying _beauty is in the eye of the beholder._ Now he wonders, how anyone could dare think less of her.

The day turns to night as they walk hand in hand to school—they don't care who sees. Quidditch matches are going to be far more competitive now.

* * *

Sneaking Katie into his dorm room is the most defyingly, despicable thing Blaise could do—the wouldbe opinion of anyone in Slytherin.

It's late—well after midnight on a Saturday morning. The recent drop in temperature hasn't been enjoyable for sleeping alone. When he invited Katie to stay the night, Blaise was half expecting she'd say no. To his surprise, she concocted the whole thing, successfully pulling it off, while managing to sneak Ginny in for Theo. With private dorm—thanks to their over privileged bank account—there is no reason why it could possibly be awkward.

It's surreal, her standing there as she disrobes, revealing nothing but his Slytherin green Quidditch shirt underneath. Usually a penchant for delicacies and fine lace, Blaise can't get past how a witch can be so sexy in his t-shirt. Perhaps it's the colour choice or because her legs are svelte pins he wishes to have wrapped around his neck, with his face is buried between them.

Paired with her simple black boyleg panties, tucked not-so-descreetly between her bumcheeks is the winning combination. Katie is the only girl who hasn't changed herself in order to please him and he is content all the same. While he has no intention to claim her, he certainly can't help but think about it.

She joins him in bed, peeling back the covers to reveal his bare chest. Blaise welcomes her with open arms like a bear. Candles on his bedside provide little light, but the ambiance is romantic as their shadows dance in the flames. Her hands are cold as she cuddles into him and he holds her tighter to radiate his warmth.

“You're here.”

“I am!” She pleases as he nuzzles into her hair. Her chocolate brown locks are freshly washed, the scent reminding him of freshly brewed coffee, hints of orange blossom and nutmeg.

He breathes her in, “Hmm, you smell good.” Her reaction can't be seen while buried into hair, but she emits a feverish heat.

Eliciting a giggle, Katie sweeps her hair over one shoulder to find his face. Although the light is lacking, he can see the outline of her smile from any distance. Blaise cups the frame of her cheeks, pressing his lips to her forehead in adoration. His gesture is a genuine show of affection.

Next he kisses her nose, a button he insists was created just for him. In public he always kisses her there; an endearing expression of his fondness of her. Lastly he connects with her lips, peppering her mouth with the kind of passion he keeps reserved for only her. The world doesn't need to witness this all-consuming intensity. They've only been dating for four weeks but the rush of young love is enthralling.

Blaise fights temptation as his hand roams her outer thigh. Her leg is wrapped around his waist in a firm grip. His fingertips dance lightly, back and forth across her skin, the motion soothing her. Laying awake, Blaise listens to her breathing, her respiration lulling him to sleep.

As his eyes fall heavy, he whispers, "I think I'm falling in love with you, Katherine.”  

To which she suddenly replies, “It's about time I caught you.”  She shifts in his arms as she adds, “Only my Grandmother calls me, Katherine.”

“Your Grandmother and I can have that in common,” he retorts cheekily.

She is yet to express any returned feelings as they both fall asleep.

* * *

Snowflakes sprinkle the grounds of Hogwarts, dusting numerous statues residing there. Winter is finally here. Though cold, most enjoy the warmth of a toasty fire and the endless winter themed puddings to accompany the chilly season.

With Christmas around the corner and excursions to Hogsmeade more popular than ever, Blaise and Katie spend every waking moment together. Their relationship has become defined as somewhat _normal_ now. Admittedly, it hasn't been easy. Daphne's constant plotting against them and the interference has been damning, moreso to her reputation than anything else. So on this particular day, while getting ready to meet Katie at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, Blaise is caught off guard by an unexpected visitor.

Theo's presence is commanding as he stands in the doorway. The concerned look on his face suggests he is the bearer of bad news. He enters unannounced and seals the door shut, his tone a hushed whisper.  Every word is exercised precisely with caution, as though his life depends on it.

“There's something I think you need to know,” says Theo gravely. " And I don't know if it’s true because my source is just as lying and manipulating as your ex, but still—you should investigate, before Katie finds out…If it were me, I would want you to tell me.”

“What the fuck are you on about, Nott? Don't be so dramatic. _Tell_ me.”

Theo inhales a deep breath. Suddenly, it becomes apparent to Blaise, whatever he is about to learn is serious.

“Daphne is in the hospital wing with a stomach ache.”

Confused, Blaise asks, “So? What's that have to do with me?”

“A stomach ache _you_ gave her.” Theo awkwardly rubs his belly, the bump evidence of pudding he had earlier. Daphne hasn't been eating any pudding.

“Pardon?” Blaise isn't struggling to understand, his face now white as a ghost. With details scarce and his stomach sick in knots, he asks his friend again. “Are you saying what I think you're fucking saying?”

“Yep.”

“No.”

“Yes, Zabini. According to Pansy, anyway.”

“How?”

“Well, you see—”

“—I don't mean literally!”

“Look. All I know is what I was told. Daphne is in the Hospital wing. Perhaps you should go and speak to her.”

Blaise can't think of anything worse than speaking to Daphne, besides the possibility of impregnating her. If in fact, she speaks the truth, he would rather—well he doesn't know what he would prefer. Probably something along the lines of this not being true and him not having to explain to his current girlfriend, whom he hasn't even has sex with, that his ex-girlfriend is having his baby.  

As the realisation dawns on him, all Blaise can say is, “ _FUCK_!”

* * *

 _Meanwhile,_ Katie is seated in a quaint corner of the shop alone. Her pot of English tea now cold. He’s never been late—not once. Oddly, she notices Pansy enter alone, her eyes searching for someone in particular. Upon spotting her, she approaches Katie, diligently.

“I have a message from Zabini,” she insists, while retrieving a piece of parchment from her pocket. A note sealed with the Slytherin crest is handed to her.

Katie is cautious to accept the parchment, curious as to why Blaise would send a note with Pansy, and partly upset he isn't here already.

Pansy doesn't hang around, leaving Katie to read his note in peace. She finds it peculiar he claims to be waiting for her in The Shrieking Shack. However, it would be foolish of her to ignore the note and not investigate for herself.

Paying for her pot of tea, Katie exits Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop in search for Blaise.

* * *

Katie enters the decrepit building, hardly finding his choice of venue cosy. The slight annoyance she feels towards him is replaced with excitement when she notices the intricatcate path he's made. The candles lighting the hallway are clear—a subtle hint for her to follow.

The candles lead her down the hall to a small room. It's contents appear fairly empty, except for a picnic blanket laid out. It contains a box-shaped package wrapped in brown paper—the main focus of her attention. She walks to it in a trance-like state, the gift itself keeps calling out her name: _Katherine_.

Only Blaise calls her Katherine; a sure sign, she knows it to be true. Her focus is unparalleled, she can no longer look away. As she kneels on the blanket to claim her gift, the torn brown paper reveals an opal necklace. Unable to resist it's charm, she finds herself tearing at its seams to reveal beauty in all its glory.

Still holding the folds of paper on the edge of the jewelry box containing it, Katie is alerted to the fact she is no longer alone. Her heart jolts in excitement at the anticipating arrival of her mate. As Pansy steps out from the curtains, her excitement is replaced with something far more sinister.

“You can't refuse, Daphne's gift. Wear it.”

Katie wants to reply with, _or else what?_ However, she struggles to decline. Attempting to peel her fingers away from the package, an invisible vice—an unseen obligation—grips her. The tips of her fingers tremble causing her to realise the bond could possibly seal her fate.

Thoughts of Blaise flood her mind, embrace her body and soothe her soul. Life is dull and grim, the effect of dark magic beginning to work its way around her like a worm longs to explore the depths of earth.

A static-like _woosh_ raises the hairs on her neck, her head gravitates towards the roof. She is a lightweight, helpless and full of fear. While levitating high above the ground, she plunges into darkness. Her sense of reality is skewed. Obscured by the unfortunate happenings of the day.

Katie's sight is now impaired while the dark magic impacts her visions and turns them into hallucinations— an appropriate means of torture it seems. Pansy’s work here is done.

The sound of hefty boots trudge in the opposite direction. Had it not been for her own screams of agony, Katie might have been able to figure a way out of there. Alone and afraid, she collapses under the weight of the darkness. Her memory failing her, she cannot remember his face.

* * *

The walk to the Hospital wing takes double the time it usually does. Blaise over-analyses, weighing the pros versus cons, and thinking up solutions to prepare for any plausible outcome. When he finds himself standing at the foot of her bed, evidence of the rumour is lacking.

“You made it,” Daphne pleased. Not looking at all ill.

Blaise is weary. He doesn't trust her for a minute. “I have to know if it's true?”

“So what if it isn't?” Her lips curl into a wicked smile. Blaise isn't fearful of many things, but Daphne chills him to the bone.

“Is that an admission to more lies?”

“Well, I'm certainly not admitting guilt. Come on now, Blaise. It's just a game. It's unfortunate for your _girlfriend_ , you've forgotten how to play.”

“You've never played fair.”

 _Girlfriend_ spills from her mouth so bitterly. He finds his dignity and grace slipping through the cracks and he lunges for her, slamming her body up against a wall. She is pinned by his arms, but doesn't seem to mind, relishing in his rage. His lack of embrace is cold as she clings onto him. Ice doesn't melt, nor does he reciprocate her longing to be touched.

“What did you do?’ He yells, demanding to know, while refraining himself from pulling her forward in order to slam her back into the wall.

Daphne snorts in amusement and he begins to think she is the spawn of Voldemort himself. How he ever felt something for her astounds him. He looks into her eyes—it's not the Daphne he knows, staring back. A master manipulator, he believed everything.

Blaise is unsuccessful in getting answers, just as Daphne fails to give them.

Fuelled by resentment and hate, he balls his hands into fists, punching the wall behind her. His frustration takes over, but he would never dare harm her as he lays fist after fist into the wall. He just wants to scare her. Pieces of the stone are embedded into his knuckles. Bloody and raw, specks of blood drip into the floor. Knowing a lost cause when he sees one, he swiftly backs away.

“Are you done here, Zabini?” cooes Pansy behind him.

A rude interruption.

Daphne claps as Pansy approaches to help her friend.

“Do you bring good news?” asks Daphne, critically.

“There was no finality in the outcome, but I believe her memory is fading.”

Blaise’ heart sinks quicker than an anchor and slowly backs away. He is blindsided by the fact Daphne could go so far. _She must be bluffing, she has to be,_ he tries to convince himself. He needs to know the truth.

Honesty is just a quality of moral correctness. And when your compass has no true north, the only direction morality can go is south.

There are always lessons learned in love. Being let down slowly, isn't one of them.

* * *

  _Six months later._

Walking the halls of Hogwarts is far more therapeutic than one would think—but he walks with determination. The intention to see once and for all if the rumours are true, Katie is back.

He wasn't allowed to visit or write her, so he found the months painfully long. It was a suggestion from Theo to keep the memories he holds dearest close to him. In the form of a small phial, he clings to a galaxy of their past, wearing it around his neck. Fluid twirls swirl from within his fingertips. If not to remind her, to prove to her she can never truly forget.

He reaches The Great Hall, eyes landing on her immediately. This has been a recurring dream of his since she had no choice but to leave him lonely. Having been awhile since they talked, he feels the divide. Blaise offers her a smile, not wanting their love to fade. Judging by the blank expression that marks her face and the satisfied smirk of Daphne's—he can see the path of recognition won't be easy. He joins the Gryffindor table, hearing whispers speak his name.

Opposite, Katie, Blaise offers a hand.

“I wanted to introduce myself, my name is Blaise.

Katie smiles and introduces herself as Katherine.  

 


End file.
